Ever Unwilling
by Wiggy
Summary: Forced to train as an assassin in the mysterious NW agency Bleeding Thistles, Ella Pinefrost is plunged into a savage regime. As she discovers the truth about herself, will she accept it? Can she change and escape in time to save the world? Updated! R/R!
1. Prologue

The concept of the NW and all it's original characters belong to LJ Smith and her publishers etc. Not me. OK?  
  
This is my first attempt at NW fanfiction, so any reviews would really make my day! Thanks for reading! Now, on with the story.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Gloomy, dreary and infinitely grey, the sky loomed grimly overhead, threatening Ella Pinefrost as she gazed from this sodden, damp infested hilltop, overlooking the grimy, glitzy world of Las Vegas. Everything bright and good was washed out by rain in the slate coloured clouds, leaving nothing but this dank wasteland, polluted with evil and unrest. The thought was not only depressing, but also hopelessly sad. The weather seemed to mirthlessly torment her with the promise of a downpour of coldness as she stood silent and melancholy, facing the forbidding dawn.  
  
Here and now, she was experiencing the last few moments of true freedom she would ever have. It was a revolting notion. The weather, in harmony with her inner distress, was giving her a finale that was both dramatic and symbolistic of this point in her life. The sun rose, lancing the bleak, drab banks of rolling cloud. But still, despite such brave, emotive effort, those awful, water infested blobs prevailed. "Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army," she thought to herself. It was a quote from a poem they'd been studying in class recently. And it was a good definition too.  
  
The view was great from up here. Like a toy town, so innocent, beautiful, magnificent. Funny how appearances could be so deceiving. It wasn't at all as it seemed. Within this place, so serene and quiet at dawn, lurked that unseen, secretive terror, stalking the streets with murderous intent. Vampires. Werewolves. Shapeshifters. Witches. Deadly members of the Night World. It wasn't safe anywhere, whether you were human or a Night person like herself. Not now, with the Millennium fast approaching and tension running so high. Death and destruction hid secretive and silent in the shadows, ready to pounce and smother the unwary, the foolish, the skilful and the brave alike. It was a truly awful world to live in, and a worse one to die in. That didn't change the truth of the matter. She was living now, and she would die pretty soon no doubt, here in this corrupt little city.  
  
Ella smiled to herself, feeling self-derisive laughter bubble up within her. What a life! She could help feeling as if she was about to die, though not literally. That would be unlikely, considering that she was a lamia. The old Ella Pinefrost, the carefree kid who went to high school, was officially dead as of today. She was no longer herself, instead, she thought as her deep, wide, velvety midnight-blue eyes darkened in disgust, losing their alluring look of innocence, she would be a trained killer for the Night World's most elitist, most prestigious and most mysterious assassins agency. How's that for a career plan?  
  
Even though she was wrapped up warm, with her stylishly tailored burgundy coat reaching to her knees, her black kitten-heeled boots, her formal brown trousers and a warm, creamy coloured cashmere scarf, she still shivered as a gust of wind sliced through her, as keen as a knife, and just as deadly. She knew that today was the beginning of the rest of her miserable and bloody life. Wistfully, she wound a twist of wavy, thick chocolate-coloured hair upon her index finger, before releasing it. It fell to her shoulders framing her delicate oval-shaped face, many darkly spiralling shafts tossed like a salad in the gusty breeze.  
  
She looked up at the sky yet again. Ominous rumbles issued forth from the very belly of the sky. A storm was brewing no doubt. Just like the storm of unleashed fury that was beginning to broil within her. It wasn't fair!  
  
"Why does it have to be me?" she mentally asked in despair. "I hate you, Alex." And mom, and dad, of course. And Mavis. And life, generally, and fate, for conspiring against her all along, to bring her to this horrendous conclusion.  
  
She had had to leave everything and everyone she'd ever known. She had wanted to get a job somewhere, maybe even apply for college, choose for herself a life just like any other normal person. Ella thought of all those dreams she'd had as a girl, and grinned despite herself. The smile faded. The only problem with that plan was that she was a vampire, brought up in the Night World, and therefore obliged to serve it in the battles to come. Her fellow students, well the human ones anyway, had thought that she was going to some old college in the middle of nowhere, a good one though. The vermin wouldn't expect anything less for the stunning senior with the brains and the talent to go wherever she wanted to go. The Night World kids, and there had been several, knew of her true plight, and most of them couldn't see what the problem was. An assassin's agency was a pretty good deal as far as most of them had been concerned - you'd get to kill people, and get paid! It was a great achievement for a Night World kid with no prestigious family, no family at all actually, to get. Most of this agency's initiates were from well to do, respected families. Great, she'd replied, inwardly feeling disgust.  
  
Maybe she should have been more grateful. That was exactly what everyone; Mavis, the gaunt vamp who had scouted her for the agency, and her friends, had thought she should be. She was no spoilt child, though. She simply believed that everyone should have freedom. The problem was, of course, that she had none. Having no living parents - they'd been staked long ago, her current guardians were in effect, the Night World council, and it was one of their retired, yet fiercely loyal agents, a made vampire called Mavis Rosethorn who had stepped up to take care of the pitifully lonely pair of orphans who had been abandoned in death ten years ago. Ella had been six, two years younger than her older brother Alex. Alex. The feelings of pain and anger rose stronger than any other at the every thought of him. Alex the deserter, the disloyal King of the bastards, the creep who had run away and left her to take his punishment.  
  
Anger blinded her. That was a flaw of hers that no amount of anger management or crying or even violence could dissolve. She hated her temper, but she loathed her slimy toad of a brother even more. She knew deep within her mind, that actually Alex had not been so bad, but it was his sudden departure that had scarred her the most, and now her fury was slowly distorting even the good memories of him that she still held. Mais c'est la vie. And there's nothing anybody can do about it.  
  
Why? That was the question of the day, she thought to herself. I've been out here ages, she realised with a start, as she looked at her watch. Mavis would be up already. The three hands all pointed to the six. Six, six, six. Half six and 30 seconds, 31, 32, 33. She pulled her coat sleeve over it again. Mavis would murder her when she found out she had driven up here. The problem with lying to her foster mother was that she had impeccable psychic abilities, and could sense a lie a mile off. Bitch, she thought as she trudged miserably from her lofty vantage point to her car, although she didn't mean it one bit. Loving Mavis had been hard at first, with the image of her parent fresh in her mind, but as she began to accept the true situation, she had grown to love the beautiful, loving, if bad-tempered woman, so old in age yet young looking, like any other vamp. If anything, it was Alex that had always had the problem with her, and with life. Her brother was now fresh in her mind as she turned back to have one last look at the view. This is it, Miss Pinefrost. Your last look at the world before you metaphorically die. She felt such a longing to run away from life, a sense of loss for those things that might have been. If only things had been different. If only.  
  
But that's life, and shit happens. Deal with it.  
  
With a last glance over her shoulder, Ella got into the car and began the weary journey back home. The journey that she did not want to make, that would take her to her unwanted new life as an assassin.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Please r/r! Thanks for reading, and I hope you will come back for the next chapter. ^_^ 


	2. Farewell

The concept of the NW and all it's characters belong to LJ Smith and her publishers etc. Not me. OK? But my characters and plotline are mine!  
  
Hey! Don't forget to review! Please? OK, so here's the next bit!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
As the mustang's engine coughed moodily, Ella frowned worriedly. The rustbucket had better not break down now, she thought in annoyance. She'd only had the thing for a few months, but she had to admit, it had been in bad shape even then. After experiencing her haphazard driving, it sported several dents and cracks on the outside, not to mention the cute red paintwork was totally ruined. She couldn't imagine what it was like on the inside. It was probably nothing but scrap metal. Ella hated driving. She was no good at it, for some reason or another, and it wasn't because of strength, speed or dexterity. Vampires had tons of those skills. She thought it was probably her personality. She found it hard to concentrate on the boring, stupid road ahead; it was too frustrating for her to bear.  
  
"Hey! Watch it!" she yelled as a boy-racer in a silver Ferrari cut her up on the freeway. The driver gave her a winning smile that dripped of I-don't- care arrogance as he zoomed dangerously past. With a groan of disgust she rolled her deep blue eyes. "Typical," she muttered as she stepped on the accelerator.  
  
In this manner, Ella finally managed to drive home, despite a near miss with a tree and several drivers hurling abuse at her. She couldn't help but sigh with relief, a mischievous smile on her lips as she pulled up in front of the modest semi in which she lived. She could mentally visualise Mavis now. Her cantankerous foster mom was going to stake her as soon as she stepped inside the house. Readying herself for the onslaught of abuse and screaming, Ella pulled the key out of the ignition and slammed the car door ceremoniously. But it was no good. Putting on a cheery front was not going to change the fact that her feet dragged like 100 ton weights as she strode up the garden path, and her heart was as cold and as heavy as lead. Not even the freshly blooming flowers that exploded riotously in the flowerbeds could make her forget her future.  
  
As soon as she put a hand on the brashly shining handle of the cheery grass- green door, she sensed Mavis bustling into the hallway. From where she stood, Ella could feel the tightly leashed rage that her foster mom was going to vent out on her. She paused hesitantly, making a sour face, which was reflected and distorted in the brass house number fixed on the front of it - 76. Here we go, she whispered mentally as she pushed the door open.  
  
"Where the have you been?" yelled Mavis threateningly. Ella felt her spirits drop to an all-time low as she came face-to-face with Mavis's ire. Her foster-mom looked gorgeous as usual, with her waist-length blonde hair falling straight and creamy soft around her heart-shaped face. Her dark, hooded eyes glittered, and even though she was not as tall as Ella, she made up for it in more ways than one. "Ella, answer me! I hope you haven't been thinking of. Ella! Where are you going?" Ella, seizing her chance to perhaps diffuse this tense, stressful situation, had dashed into the living room. Mavis followed.  
  
Doubting whether she would survive such a rabid and vengeful onslaught, Ella collapsed into a soft rose-pink armchair and held up a slim restraining hand, her fingers splayed.  
  
"OK mom. Stop right there," she said coolly. In contrast with her passionate, temperamental foster mom, she kept her emotions tightly under wraps, except when in the driver's seat of course. It never did to give away what you felt inside. Who would want the whole world to know their personal, private emotions?  
  
"Don't you give me that cheek young lady I..."  
  
"Please. Come on, listen to me."  
  
Mavis gave her a half-tired, half- furious look. Then she too sat down, running a hand through her glorious golden tresses.  
  
"I swear you'll be the death of me Ella!" she exclaimed, turning to face her. Ella felt drained, not wanting to give Mavis any grief.  
  
"Right," she said softly. "Yes I have fed. No I was not planning to run away." She gave her foster mom a disparaging look. "As if I would be that stupid. They'd hunt me down in a heartbeat. And no, I don't like it one bit."  
  
"They haven't got Alex yet," said Mavis, her voice trembling with emotion.  
  
"Yeah," Alex agreed disgustedly. "Why should they even try? They'll get an agent out of it either way. And everyone knows that I was always better than him in the whole assassin thing."  
  
Self-pity was beginning to pervade her system. It was annoying to say the least. What a weak, pathetic thing to feel. By anyone's standards, it was the most inferior emotion there was. But even though she was dying on the inside, she managed to disguise her inner turmoil.  
  
"I don't want to go, mom," whispered Ella fearfully. "I'll hate it."  
  
"You haven't got a choice right now, El. You never did." Mavis said sadly as she left the room.  
  
Ella was glad she'd left. She hated anyone seeing her cry. It was the ultimate weakness, and she had to be strong. Sobbing hopelessly, she thought that she would never survive the intensive training that was in store for her. Not mentally anyway. Brushing aside the tears that coursed down her cheeks, Ella stood and crossed to the mirror above the rustic fireplace, which was already roaring with a hearty blaze. Staring back she saw a slender, tall sixteen year old, with wise, old soulful eyes that were a little too intense for conventional comfort, framed with curly brown lashes. They seemed to look into you, not just at you, and were at this moment red and raw with tears. Her pale porcelain skin was soft and creamy, drawn over the high cheekbones and delicately sculpted features of her pretty oval face. She had a stubborn chin, full, kissable lips and a sweet button nose. Curly brown hair fell to her shoulders, and she was of a strong looking build. She was beautiful, yes, but hopeless, faithless and lost.  
  
Ella decided to go for a shower, her last one ever at home. After today, she would never be allowed back here alive, not even for a second. She went back through into the hall again, and began her weary ascent of the staircase. On the first floor landing, she saw that her door was ajar. Peering in, she glimpsed that her bedroom, no, former bedroom was completely bare, save for a small black suitcase. Most of her stuff had been sold or put in the skip; it was only the large part of her bare essentials that had been sent to her mysterious new training area already. She had some of her stuff, like her toothbrush, still here, and she would bring all these with her when she left.  
  
She didn't like her room anymore. It was no longer hers; it was just a faceless, anonymous area. She quickly left and went into the bathroom.  
  
As the water rained down on her in never-ending succession, she started to think again. She hated it when she reminisced about the past or dreamed about her future. It was always too painful. But she still did it nonetheless; as if she enjoyed the obscene sorrow it brought her.  
  
As orphans taken in by the Night World, they had had a duty to fulfil. Payback is what they called it. In return for the care, one of the members of each family looked after had to serve them. The eldest, usually. Most kids were alone, so they were immediately obliged to become Night World assassins, spies, grunts, paper-pushers, or any other job that most suited their talents, or lack of talents. Alex had been all geared up to do this, at first anyway. Her brother had been quite different to her in the looks department, with his light brown hair and his sweet, hazel coloured puppy- dog eyes. In attitude, he had always been sweet too. So sensitive, caring, gentle. More like a Daybreaker that a Night World kid, she mused. Ella herself was a bit of a vicious one, brutally honest, and brutal in almost everything else too. She had had a bit of a reputation for being a tough, heartless, mischievous, manipulative girl. But it was all exaggerated way out of proportion. She was a lot darker in character than Alex, that was certain, but darker doesn't always mean black. They'd both done the training and preparation to become Night World agents, and she'd always excelled at it, leaving him struggling. He had struggled also to accept and bond with Mavis, and they had periodic arguments and fights. As he'd grown he became distant, no longer as close to his bad little sister, and far more secretive. Then one day, as if by magic, he'd gone. Kaboom. Leaving good old Ella to take up his responsibilities. He had most likely thought that she'd have loved the assassin's job. But he had forgotten what she was like inside, and so he had given her the most heinous gift of all; he had imprisoned her.  
  
Ella had now exited the shower and was currently in Mavis's luxurious room, fully dressed in comfy grey trainers, sexy black jeans and a silky grey spaghetti top, her hair now dry and falling in ringlets round her face. As she brushed the glossy curls, she wondered about her life from today onwards. Bleeding Thistles, the agency she was going to be initiated into, was a very hush-hush place. Every one of her friends and acquaintances (that was quite a hefty number of people) basically said that they'd never heard it. But it did exist, and Mavis had stated that it was as prestigious as it was mysterious, for the elite Night World members with the brains and the brawn to go far. Age didn't matter; you could be 16 or 1600. Her foster mom had also said that mostly guys got into it; assassination clearly was more a masculine hobby, she smiled sarcastically to herself. Well, she thought, at least I get some serious eye-candy as I turn into a cold- hearted killer.  
  
"El?" A face appeared at the door.  
  
"Yeah mom?"  
  
Mavis came in and sat next to her on the bed. "They'll be coming to get you soon, " she said, her voice quavering, her dark eyes filled with bitter tears. "I know you don't want to." she paused, taking a deep, steadying breath. "But..."  
  
"I hate it mom. You know it, I know it. But life's a bitch. There's no use just wanting it to be different. You've just got to get on with it and make the best of a bad job." Ella wished she could take her own good advice. Recently that was all she'd been doing, just wondering and hoping and praying for a miracle, dreaming of a life where things had been better.  
  
"Take this." Mavis pressed something cold and cool into her palm.  
  
"Mom, I won't say goodbye. I won't take this. I won't leave you, I won't!"  
  
And then the doorbell rang. It was like a knife, cutting through the air.  
  
Mavis pulled Ella into a fierce, tight hug.  
  
"I'll miss you baby. I love you."  
  
Ella said nothing. She just felt cold fear and pain flood her veins, icy tears slicing her damp cheeks yet again in their mirthless torture. She couldn't speak, think, move; she only felt her heart tear in two as she pulled away from her foster mother, not bearing to turn back. That was their last touch, their last words, as she was severed from Mavis forever.  
  
Grabbing her bag, Ella pulled on her burgundy coat and violently yanked the door open. A scruffy young 'wolf stood before her on the porch, clearly surprised at her ferocious door opening and passionate, wounded expression.  
  
"Miss Ella Elizabeth Pinefrost? The car is waiting." He led the way to a large black monster of a Mercedes.  
  
Ella walked out, closing the door gently behind her, savouring her last moments at home. Oh mom. Please. Then she walked to the waiting black Mercedes and got in, her head spinning, eyes wide with bewildered sadness as she took it all in for the last time. Tears fell eternally. She barely noticed the surprising luxury of it all. She had been expecting a coach or something not this elegant chauffeur-driven beauty. But it was all insignificant. Pain crashed in a crescendo of horror and anguish. She felt like she was going to be executed. And she was, in a sort of mental freaky way. She was no longer Ella Elizabeth Pinefrost. Who was she? Ella mentally begged to be released from this torture chamber, to be given darkness and numbness. But no amount of pleading could repair the damage to her broken, bruised heart and torn, twisted soul. She was empty and desolate.  
  
As Ella sat silent and frozen inside the black leather interior of the plush, posh vehicle, she saw a familiar, tear-drenched face at the upstairs window as they pulled away.  
  
"Mom," she said, quietly, emotionlessly. No more tears, no more pain, just do what you have to, just stay alive.  
  
*Goodbye, life. I'm an assassin now.*  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Quite a long chapter. Don't forget to review! Thanks for reading! 


	3. Knockout

The concept of the NW and all it's characters belong to LJ Smith and her publishers etc. Not me. OK? But all the original stuff does belong to me. Got it?  
  
Thanks for all the great reviews I've got so far! I am flattered by them - they are all good ones so far! I am seriously getting suspicious. Right, keep reading; coz things are about to get interesting. Oh and don't forget to review!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
As the car sped along the freeway, Ella gazed unseeingly through the dark tinted windows of the Mercedes, her mind full of sorrowful, painful thoughts. The damp tracks of her tears were beginning to dry now, though she could still taste the salty trace of them upon her lips. She resolved not to look back; the past always seemed to cloud and twist her present, and doom her future. Ignoring it was her way of dealing with it, and even though she was fully aware that it was not healthy or wise to do so, she was weak. She hated the half-helpless state that she was currently in, as she was used only to being strong, superior, in control. As she felt her life slowly slip from her grasp, Ella grew afraid, the fear gnawing mercilessly at her insides. But still, she kept herself composed, never letting the calm mask of imperious, beautiful mastery slip. If her defences fell now, all would be lost.  
  
Searching for some release from the haunting, never-ending chain of bittersweet memories, she scanned her surroundings. Stylish and beautifully made leather, the kind that was comfortable and high quality, upholstered the entire interior. Also, there were some bits of highly polished mahogany panelling, and soft lighting. She felt that the place was almost too big for her solitary, silent figure. It needed a group of sophisticated, fashionably dressed aristocrats to carry to an important, swanky party, not one tear-drenched, depressed loner vampire who was being dragged to assassin's school.  
  
"Hello?" she called, wincing, as her voice sounded tiny, almost swallowed up by the massive vehicle.  
  
"Yup? Are you alright miss? Need anything?" The 'wolf's rough but friendly voice floated back.  
  
"No," she said poutily. "I'm bored. Can I come and sit up at the front?" Ella was half surprised at herself. Normally she wouldn't look twice at any werewolf; they were second-class after all. She couldn't help but think that she must really be desperate for company to sink so low as asking a 'wolf to join her in conversation. But privately she knew that something had changed within her. Unwilling to analyse these strange feelings, she attributed them both to misery and to maturity. Everyone knew that she had been the most juvenile, carefree, silly lamia in the world until Alex had gone off and left her alone to take up his job. Recognising that she was about to lapse into another self-indulgent walk down memory lane, she pulled herself together.  
  
"Uh, yeah, OK, uh, hang on; I'll just pull over." Evidently the 'wolf was surprised by her kindness too. The rebel in her smiled; she couldn't deny that subverting people's prejudices was fun.  
  
Ella leapt out of the back, blinking as the sunlight that had been denied her in the shaded backseat now focused its golden beams upon her. She slammed the door, flung open the front door, and elegantly slid in.  
  
The werewolf stared at her for a second. Ella stared back, taking in his scrawny, skinny and scruffy appearance, and the frightened but sly look in his beady black eyes. He was about her age, she guessed, and even in the smart chauffeur's uniform, he managed to look unwashed and ugly. His lanky, greasy black hair fell shoulder length, and his face did have a canine look to it, complete with dark stubble and doggish mouth. But of course, judging people by appearances always backfired; everyone had a hidden trick up their sleeves. Didn't stop her from doing it though; it was a habit that was hard to break at the best of times.  
  
"Whatcha staring at?" she queried with a disdainful look. "Get going already!" Ella took a look at the clock that was conveniently situated in the dashboard. "12 o clock! I'm starving. When's the food stop?"  
  
In reply, the 'wolf revved up the engine in an unnecessarily loud and masculine way, and the Mercedes sped off again at a breakneck pace. "We'll be stopping soon," said he coolly, before turning his concentration back to the long, blank road ahead.  
  
Ella got the unmistakeable inkling that she was being lied to. Though physically she slouched in her chair and again began to stare lazily out the window, mentally she was probing the 'wolf's mind. Funnily enough, she could barely sense anything. Ella thought that was totally weird. There was no way one mangy little mutt had enough mental power to shield his own mind this strongly, unless he was extra powerful. Somehow, she did not think this was the case. But then, what was the explanation?  
  
Ella decided to let it go for now. After all, there was plenty of time for investigating when she finally arrived at the infamous Bloody Thistles training place. No need to worry about stuff that was really insignificant.  
  
"So, what's your name?" she asked, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.  
  
"John Feverfew," he replied shortly.  
  
"Yeah? I'm Ella... Oh, but you knew that already, didn't you... So, how did you get this job? It must be great; getting to drive this car around."  
  
"It's OK. I got the job when my dad died last year. I took over the family business, you might say."  
  
Ella got the feeling that she'd touched on a nerve. She did not reply. What do you say to that sort of blunt statement? It was no wonder this guy was so moody.  
  
"You want a mint to tide you over?" asked the 'wolf, as he proffered a small, white, tablet in his hairy, coarse hand. "We're nearly at the rest stop."  
  
"So suddenly vampires eat mints instead of being bloodsuckers, right?" said Ella sarcastically, as she was beginning to regret moving to the front. More mysteries, that's what comes of being too curious. But she took the mint anyway. No harm in a little sweet.  
  
As it dissolved on her tongue, Ella immediately realised that something weird was going on. She felt all her energy drain out from her body. It was as if she had never fed. But it was more than that. A complete and utter bout of lethargy had imprisoned her in her own body, and now she could barely move, barely think, barely feel. She felt sleepy - a sleeping drug, she thought in angry disgust.  
  
"What the fuck have you done to me?" she managed to croak. The 'wolf's anxious, expectant face swam dizzyingly before her blurring vision. Ella found herself fighting to keep her lead-rimmed eyelids open, trying to stay awake for as long as possible. The icy numbness was seeping into her bones, paralysing her painfully, keeping her restrained and immobile.  
  
She gathered her weakening strength and flung herself wearily at the mutt, trying to force him to undo his witchery. But she was far too exhausted to do much damage. She managed to gauge a deep red scratch in his cheek with a fingernail before he pushed her forcefully back into her seat. She gasped as the breath was knocked out of her lungs. She was winded, and that now made her weaker than ever.  
  
"Bastard," she hissed, overcome with agony. It felt as if she was being frozen alive and knocked out all at once.  
  
"Sorry. It's the standard policy at Bleeding Thistles. Location must be kept secret..."  
  
"Wha..." she began drowsily. But it was hopeless. She fought and struggled, but nevertheless she closed her eyes, feeling all thought just drift away into the abyss of darkness she was now entering. As the powerful drug dragged her, drowned her in the foggy, blurred mist of unconsciousness, she wondered just what she had let herself in for.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
There! Mysterious... Please review ASAP! Thanks! 


	4. Arrival

As per usual, I own absolutely zero of LJ Smith's stuff, but the original plotline and characters are mine.  
  
I crave your suggestions, opinions, reviews, criticism, praise, ideas, tips and all that stuff! So please give me some! ^_^ Thanks a lot!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Slowly, painfully slowly, the foggy mist of oblivion that danced inside Ella's pounding head began to clear. First it was sight that returned to her; the smothering darkness faded into a blood-red colour, as she became aware of light shining through her closed lids. As soon as she felt able, she slowly opened her sleep-blurred midnight blue eyes, squinting and grimacing as the startlingly garish kaleidoscope of colours dazzled her. Gradually, she became accustomed to this. Hearing returned to her almost instantly after this, like an explosion as another dimension was added to her senses. Then feeling. She knew that the leather upholstery comfortably cushioned her currently paralysed and pathetic body, that the window beside her blew a fresh breeze into her face, that she was cold, and that her hair needed a good brush. Then it was smell that came to her; the damp, earthiness of rain soaked vegetation, and the pungency of a resinous cologne mixed with stale sweat, which was totally repulsive. She spluttered, tasting the strong fragrance because droplets of it had wafted into her open mouth. She wondered if she really did sleep with her mouth open, and hoped that she had not drooled everywhere.  
  
Then there were several bizarre moments. Ella saw that she was still in the front seat of the Mercedes. That damn 'wolf was still driving. The scenery had changed; no longer the bustling freeways of Las Vegas, but a dark and threatening forest, lush green, but still impregnated with an almost tangible thrill of danger and blood. She could see, smell, taste and hear and feel. But the ability to move had not yet come to her. She supposed that this was how people felt when they woke up from anaesthetic during an operation, but they could not tell anyone that they had. Helplessly trapped inside their own puny bodies, mentally shrivelling up from the agony being unknowingly inflicted upon them. But this nightmare was no accident. Bleeding Thistles had done this to her. Ella didn't know a lot about the place, but already she was beginning to hate it. People always said 'never judge a book by its cover' but Ella never listened to them. If the shoe fits, it fits.  
  
The 'wolf, John, eyed her with a supercilious grin. If it was possible, he looked even greasier than before. Was taking a shower beyond his capabilities? And, even more gallingly, he looked utterly remorseless in spite of his deceptions. It gave her one tiny morsel of comfort to see the ugly red gash that she had rent in his face looked sore and painful. But he was in control at the moment, and she hated it.  
  
"Can't move yet, right? Yeah, it's all the same. Movement's always the last thing to come. But before you attack me, I'll just let you know that I'm wearing this." He displayed a strange looking, witchy type amulet that hung from a frayed cord round his neck. "Protection charms. Standard issue," he said smugly, before turning back to the road.  
  
Ella felt like a lemon. Even when movement finally returned to her, she felt as content as a ski jacket in Barbados. Her reaction was to lash out at John, despite his corny warning. Obviously his whole smug protection thing was not garbage, because as soon as she got within a centimetre of his person, she was shoved violently away by some magical force field around him. After recovering from the powerful blow, she scowled. Glowering, she turned to face him.  
  
"How come you weren't wearing that thing before?" She frowned. "You are a bastard," she spat as an afterthought, before an overwhelming bout of melancholy engulfed her. Suddenly she found herself close to tears. She was cut adrift, an innocent vampire about to be initiated into the darkness. And she was afraid, scared almost witless, and fighting to hide her feelings of despair and terror. It was not fair. It should not have been her. But fate had determined its victim at last, and she was going to the slaughter, ever unwilling, but unable to resist its lure.  
  
"I forgot it. It was in the glove compartment," said John with a crooked grin. "You wanna hear about BT?" Ella did not reply as she sunk into a sulky mood. He carried on regardless. "The grounds surrounding the BT facilities are vast and expansive, made up of mostly woodland, like this, and some moor land and marshes to the east," he added. He gave her a look that was exasperated, sympathetic and amused, all at the same time. Ella sniffled quietly. Even though she knew he'd hear her, she hoped that he would ignore it. Thankfully, John rambled on.  
  
As he spoke, Ella rummaged around in her trouser pocket; looking for the thing Mavis had given her just before she'd left. Dragging it out, she saw it was a golden topaz and sapphire pendant, set in elegant silver. She made a fist round it, remembering how Mavis had always worn the thing. The memories tore brutally at her failing spirit. She missed her foster mom acutely, almost as if it was a physical ache.  
  
"BT is Bleeding Thistles by the way. Kind of like an affectionate nickname if you will. They built this road privately, covered it in asphalt and everything. The base is like an old mansion, both modern and ancient. Which do you prefer?"  
  
She felt the 'wolf's expectant eyes on her, as if he waited for an answer.  
  
"Great," she stated flatly, hoping that it was appropriate......... John was certainly an odd guy. Shy and assertive all at once, never predictable, always changing. One minute he was quiet, the next, he blurted out the most incredibly odd things. He was an enigma, she decided. One that should be watched closely.  
  
"The base is cloaked. Warding spells. Very effective against intruders, Daybreaker spies, and extremely..." He looked across at the girl. She was gorgeous of course; even more beautiful than even the everyday Night People he encountered, with windswept brown hair, her naivety, her stubborn spirit, and her soulful, wide eyes, pools of mesmerising blue. But there was something intrinsically sad and wistful about her, about the way she was staring into space, resting her soft cheek on her slim and delicate hand, ignoring even the tiniest bits of information he was giving her. He was getting a little pissed off with the vampire. Most of that was because she had unwittingly made him feel... No, he told himself firmly. He opted for the easy road, to banish the little lamia from his thoughts. The chances were that she'd be dead before the week was out. He couldn't help but feel an odd queasiness inside him as he imagined that, no matter how much he denied it. With steely determination, John pressed the accelerator to the floor, and stared resolutely ahead.  
  
The depression had stolen up on Ella yet again; memories of a past life flooded her battered senses. She and Alex had been so tight, closer than a brother and sister were normally. She could never pinpoint where it had all gone wrong, where he had chosen his own path and left her to carry on alone. Was it her fault? She was no angel, certainly, but Alex had never had much of a problem with it. He'd loved her, as she was, warts and all. But slowly, something had changed, and Alex had become different, almost without anyone noticing. Like how nobody notices that they are becoming taller, growing all the time, until one fine day you wake up to find that the sleeves of your favourite jumper are too short and your trousers only reach to your shins. Like that.  
  
"Why do you do that?" asked John, startling Ella out of her doze.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Pity yourself. Get over it."  
  
"What?" Ella was genuinely shocked. What the fuck was he on about? "What right have you to... Wait. How did you know..."  
  
"We're here, princess," he interrupted with an ironic smile.  
  
Before Ella had a chance to ask just how he'd known what she'd been thinking, the car slowed down and pulled up in a small glade. As far as Ella could see, there was nothing, except the green, green grass of home, and a couple of trees and all that rubbish. The smartly paved road just seemed to stop.  
  
"I don't see any..." In mid-sentence, she was silenced by the most spectacular piece of magic she'd ever seen.  
  
Where there had once been nothing, a shimmering occurred. It was as if the very fabric of time was trembling. The effect was strange and eerie. Then, the quaking got more violent and vehement, and watching it made Ella's eyes go all funny, as if they doubted this peculiar vision, that was so bold and unreal, and extremely weird. The view of woodland rippled like the surface of a lake, disturbed by a stone. Then, out of nowhere, a gigantic mansion appeared, a castle.  
  
"Wow," said Ella. She was in shock. As she had not had many particularly close witch friends, their magic was bewildering and alien. Especially something on this large scale.  
  
"Wow indeed," said John, mentioning nothing about how he had explained all the precautions taken at BT earlier. Ella opened the car door and stumbled out, her eyes still trained upon the base in a suspicious manner, refusing to trust it.  
  
It was a magnificent building, in the style of an ancient gothic castle. She couldn't help but think that the looming walls, soaring turrets, ornately huge windows, yawningly wide doors and creepy gargoyles were humorously appropriate. The stonework was coloured an impassive slate grey, creeper clad in places, the red fingers twining and crawling upon the fine architecture. It was a spooky looking place, forbidding, the stuff of horror movies.  
  
"Home sweet home, right?" she remarked acidly.  
  
John had since got out her small suitcase from the boot of the car and joined her.  
  
"It may look pretty grim, but inside it's much better," he said reassuringly. Ella looked him in surprise. He was certainly very unpredictable.  
  
"Yeah," she said softly.  
  
"Feverfew, I see you've brought one of our new arrivals to us," a male voice said behind them. "What happened to your face?"  
  
John changed at once. He stood stiffly and formally, his head bowed, eyes never looking at the man who had just spoken.  
  
He looked about twenty, but she sensed at once that his true age was a much larger figure. Clearly he was a vampire, but she was not sure if he was made or lamia. His icy grey eyes were pitiless, merciless and glittering with a sadistic arrogance and self- assurance that was awe-inspiring and terrifying at once. He was tall, taller than her and John anyway. His face was hard, sculpted in granite, a sneer on his lips. His blonde hair was as pale as frost. He was muscular and predatory. Ella was at once fearful, and slammed walls round her mind, shielding her thoughts from this monster.  
  
"This is Ella Elizabeth Pinefrost, sir," said John in a clipped and respectful tone, with the barest hint of resentfulness. "I had an accident with a... penknife, sir." What a stupid excuse, she thought, wondering if the man would realise he was being lied to.  
  
But, barely registering John's statements, the man turned his attention to Ella. "Miss Pinefrost. Welcome to Bleeding Thistles," he said. His voice was cold, brusque, and calm. "I am Aldred. That is all you need to know for now."  
  
"That will be all, Feverfew," said Aldred to John, acknowledging him with a careless nod. Ella was shocked at his strange treatment of John, but said nothing. She wondered also why John had lied about the scratch she'd inflicted upon him.  
  
"Miss Pinefrost, this way," Aldred said. He had already begun approaching the BT base, walking at a quick pace. He wore a long leather jacket, brown trousers and a grey t-shirt. Ella hurried to keep up with his long stride, clutching her case. She wondered for the millionth time why vampires always loved black leather. Aldred didn't look the sort of guy to have a kinky fetish. But it was always the quiet ones... Giggling mentally at the absurd thought, she followed Aldred up the steep stone steps and along the paved terrace to the grand oak door that was the gigantic entrance to the base.  
  
Here goes, she thought, the dread and apprehension rising in her stomach, nausea and nervousness adding to her fear. Aldred stopped at the door and knocked three times. The hollow noise echoed spookily. After several minutes, the gloomy portal was opened with a painful-sounding creak, and Aldred ushered her in, to the shadows within.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Excruciatingly long chapter! Don't forget to review, my dear old chums! Thanks! 


	5. Inside

Evidently, I own none of LJ Smith's stuff. But all the original things that I have made up are mine! Great.  
  
It's been a while, I apologise. But won't you review my story? Please! I'll give you an imaginary chocolate cake if you do! With chocolate butter icing, chocolate buttons, smarties and icing sugar on top! Bribery is wrong, I know, but never mind.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Ella peered into the shadowy gloom, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the small amount of flickering firelight that illuminated the room. There were large windows all around, but for some reason they were shuttered off completely. It was vast, the walls rough, built from red-gold sandstone blocks. The floor was carpeted, well; it was soft to tread upon anyway. Many figures huddled round the roaring fire, and the dull murmur of conversation mingled with the malevolent crackle of the flames as they roared up the cavernous chimney and devoured gigantic wooden logs in the large hearth that stood to the left. Spots of candlelight were dotted about the rest of the room, upon tables, and she could just about make out a few forms sitting around them, separate from the main group. A few burning copper braziers were dotted about too; to light up dark corners, but all of this combined did not dispel the gloomy darkness of the room.  
  
"Gregson!" Aldred said beside her, his sharp tone of voice cutting through everyone's conversation. A stirring of bodies around the fire, then one ambled lazily towards them.  
  
"These are the watchmen for the front doors. We have hundreds of people employed just to guard the facility. Don't think the castle is just a training facility. This place is the base of all our many activities, projects and operations. Obviously, the Night World considers this program of utmost necessity and importance." He did not expand on this, and yet again Ella was left with a myriad of unanswered questions taunting her.  
  
"Sir," said Gregson, behaving just as John had. She saw that he was a human, and a mutilated one at that. Only his face was visible, a round, shiny lump. One of his ears was torn off, a ragged seam of unused, broken flesh still attached to the side of his skull. Scars crisscrossed his ugly face, which was swarthy and mean looking. His startlingly blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. As he spoke, Ella glimpsed that a large proportion of his teeth were missing.  
  
"Take this bag to the Rowan room." He conveyed her black suitcase from her nervous clutches and dumped it unceremoniously into Gregson's hands. Ella bit back a shriek as she saw that he had only three fingers on one hand. Gregson nodded respectfully to Aldred, and after flashing a grim smile at Ella, he sauntered away.  
  
Aldred looked at Ella keenly. "How are you Ella?" he asked, looking for some reason faintly amused.  
  
"Fine. Where are we going now?" she asked, masking any emotion from her voice or expression.  
  
Aldred smiled. It did not suit him.  
  
Ella was getting terminally fed up. What was up with all the secrecy and mystery?  
  
"I am taking you to meet all the other trainees. There you will learn more about your task and meet your colleagues. All will be revealed then, and only then." Ella got the chilling feeling that despite her best efforts, Aldred could read her thoughts anyway.  
  
The blond vampire made for the very end of the dreary room, his pace lightning fast as always. Ella stood stupidly still for a second, before running to catch up with him. She tried to get a closer look at the rest of the guards, but their faces were turned away from her, towards the warmth of the fire. She was a bit disappointed, but if they all looked like Gregson, then perhaps it was a small mercy.  
  
Aldred paused at the doorway, impatience in his stance and imperious face as he waited for Ella, who jogged up a few seconds later.  
  
"Sorry," she said, not because she meant it, but because the arrogant guy seemed to expect it, and at this early stage, she supposed she should try at least to get into someone's good graces. Without replying, Aldred pushed open the door. It led to a long and winding spiral staircase.  
  
Going up, up and more up, thought Ella a couple of minutes later. The steps were steep, but at least here there were windows, the late afternoon sunlight pouring blessedly in, giving the red sandstone a yellow glow. The metal banister was ornately carved with gory and beautiful depictions of blood feasts and battles, but Ella had no time to admire them as she sought to keep up with Aldred.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like a year and a day, Aldred stopped his furious ascent abruptly. Ella managed to stop herself from colliding with him by an inch. He looked disdainfully at her for a second. Ella couldn't help but wonder why he acted so superior. His silver eyes were cold and arrogant. He truly was the original arsehole vampire. She realised that she had a really large amount of irrational dislike for him, almost instinctual feelings of distrust and hatred. She guessed it was just a personality clash or something.  
  
He opened a door, which was old looking, an iron antique. Ella saw that, excepting the massive front door of the castle; all the other doors had been made of wood. In fact, there was hardly any of the stuff around. Ella felt comforted by the though that no one could poison her easily in this place. But there were plenty of other ways to die. Unlike the front door, the iron one opened smoothly, gliding on well-oiled hinges.  
  
It opened out onto a corridor. Bleeding Thistles was turning out to be one huge maze of stony corridors and winding steps, in Ella's mind. They walked for a short while along it, before taking the fifth door to the left, yet another iron door.  
  
"Wait in here," Aldred ordered. "I am sure the others will welcome you." His smile at that statement was truly frightening. Ella yet again felt the undercurrent of fear rise to the surface, turning her mouth paper-dry and making her stomach feel like a snake pit. He pushed open the door, holding it for her. Ella forced herself to walk in, sheer terror crawling up her spine like an icy spider, making herself go headfirst into danger. Despite her instincts warning her to stay out, to get out, to run and never look back to this dark, bloody place, she did the unthinkable, and entered the room.  
  
Her first impression was of greenness, and that there were people in the room besides her. The carpet was a lush green, exactly like thick crops of meadow grown grass, and the walls were a lighter, minty colour. Thinking of mints suddenly brought John back to her mind. The 'wolf hadn't been nice or attractive, but he had been kind to her, and had tried to help a bit, after he'd drugged her senseless. Ella admitted to herself that regardless of this, she felt a bit grateful to him. Suddenly remembering her situation, she snapped out of her daydreams and got back to reality. There would be plenty of time to think about that later. Right now it was imperative that she stayed calm, alert, focused, and on her guard constantly. She surveyed the room critically. It was an airy, pleasant space, tastefully furnished with modern, comfortable upholstery. It all looked absurdly expensive. Identifying a cosy looking, if bright lime-green armchair directly ahead, she made for it and sat herself down, thinking that she should at least be relaxed and comfy whilst examining the population of the room.  
  
There was quite a crowd. But still the room was deathly silent.  
  
"Jesus, what a fun time I'm having," a bored, sarcastic female voice drawled. "If it gets any more exciting, I think I'll have a heart attack." It came from her left.  
  
Ella turned to see who had dared break the oppressive hush. It was a fed up, exotic looking girl around her age, who lay seductively upon an elegant chaise longue in the corner. Sensing eyes upon her, the girl rolled her own hazel ones in disdain. She was wearing a short denim skirt with frayed edges, which showed off her long shapely legs and delicate sandals. Her tight white baby-tee contrasted strongly with her rich, dark brown skin. She was even taller that Ella, and voluptuous, her face round and pretty. Her brown eyes had a look of mischief in them.  
  
"Come to join the party, huh?" she asked with a wicked smile.  
  
"I might just," Ella replied with a grin.  
  
"Well, I have a feeling you might just be a little bit disappointed with the set-up here then," replied the girl with a smile. "Yazmin Arlin. And you are...?"  
  
"Ella Pinefrost," she said with a genuinely friendly smile in return.  
  
"Come sit here with me, girlfriend," she said jokingly. But the pleading look on her face definitely implied that the offer was serious.  
  
Ella did so. From the chaise, they could see just about everything and everyone in the large room.  
  
"I can't believe it! Seriously, are we the only girls here?" she whispered to Yazmin.  
  
"Nope. You really need glasses, girl! Look over there." She indicated a small girl with short, cropped blonde hair. She looked like a fairy or a pixie or something, as she sat dreamily upon a small stool. "And there!" She pointed at a girl with sullen features and dark brown hair, who sat with an annoyed expression. Ella figured that this was probably because a perky looking redhead was garbling on at her. Her high-pitched chatter carried over across the room and was loud to her vampiric senses. It was totally meaningless drivel.  
  
"Five females, as opposed to, let me see, about eleven guys? Great odds," Ella muttered.  
  
"They are actually," replied Yazmin. "Until recently, it was an unspoken rule that only men could attend."  
  
"Unspoken?"  
  
"Well, not official anyway. But I think some changes up top might have turned things around a little. After the death of Hunter, and Maya of course, the new person at the top shook things around a bit in the Night World. This place included. Caused a lot of bad feeling and controversy." She paused for breath. "Well, that's what my mom says anyway," she smiled, diffusing the significance of her information. Yazmin then tossed her ebony black braids as she stretched. Ella noticed that they each had cute silvery beads on the end.  
  
"You're a witch, right?" Ella asked. "The last name gives it away a bit."  
  
"Yeah. Circle Midnight. And you're a vampire."  
  
"Right. How did you know?" Ella gave her an evil grin. For some reason, she was getting on really well with her. Just like the instinctual feelings of dislike she'd had for Aldred, she got the sense that she and Yazmin were kindred spirits.  
  
"It was a bit of a guess really. But your last name, Pinefrost. It has a tree-based bit of it, so...." Suddenly, Yazmin got a bit distracted, and stopped mid-sentence.  
  
"Yazmin?" Ella followed her line of vision, and saw that she was staring at one cute guy. In fact, most of them there were gorgeous.  
  
"He is so fine!" she said, but quietly so as not to embarrass herself.  
  
Ella was about to give her opinions on the subject, when the door opened again. It was Aldred. Everyone in the room turned to face him.  
  
Ella still thought he was a bastard. But he was a gorgeous one all the same.  
  
"Follow me," he said. "You are to be presented to the Council immediately." With that he turned and walked away. Yazmin and Ella just looked at each other as the rest of the room quickly sought to follow him.  
  
"The Council, huh?" remarked Yazmin. "Who are they exactly?"  
  
But the question remained unanswered as it hung forebodingly in the air.  
  
Ella now felt inexplicably afraid, more fearful than ever before.  
  
"I don't want to know," she said quietly, more to herself than to Yazmin as they hurried forward. "I just don't want to know."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Gosh! Well, please review! It would make my day! Thanks ;-) 


	6. Welcome

Hello again! Yet again I must stress that I own absolutely none of the original NW characters and plotlines and ideas. But all the stuff I have curiously concocted is mine, obviously.  
  
I've decided to reply to my reviews for the last chapter, and I shall be keeping up this habit, coz I think it's a nice way to thank the people who review my story!  
  
Neoen: Thanks for reviewing so much! I appreciate it totally. And the answer to your question is maybe and probably. To be honest I haven't thought too far ahead with this story, I'm just going with the flow.  
  
KayE reN: I agree with the assassin's phase thing. Coz it rocks of course!  
  
Lizzy: So you finally got round to reading it after all that nagging! Thanks for the compliments and stuff.  
  
Raquel: I'd tell you if I knew! No, actually, I wouldn't, I'd keep it a surprise. Of course I'll keep writing, and thank you very much.  
  
I must add a little advertisement for my new story, called The Dark Sound. It is about music, which I adore, and the Night World, which I also love. Think an innocent music journalist, the sinister Redfern Records label, vampires and intrigue. That little summary doesn't really do it justice, so go and read it. Please!  
  
*Hello you weird person,* is a telepathic message. Got it?  
  
Right, enough of the irrelevant blabbering! On with the story!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Ella's head was spinning. The group of new arrivals hurried along corridor after corridor at breakneck pace, barely pausing for breath. A deathly hush had settled, like a blanket of thick snow - ice cold, emotionless, smothering all thought and speech. Even the gregarious Yazmin had been silenced by the grim and terrifying sense of foreboding that lingered tacitly in everybody's minds, though she walked beside Ella still. An unconscious alliance had been forged between the two, and though it remained unspoken, it was that bond of friendship that made them stick by one another.  
  
Ella was dimly aware that they were ascending. Clambering heavenward within the gloomy depths castle, trying to reach the Council, no doubt. Briefly snatching a glance out of one large window, she was shocked to see that they were higher than the treetops. The leafy canopy stretched out for miles, and it felt as if she had the world at her feet. In a flash the picturesque snapshot was torn from her gaze as they continued down the hall. Ella tried to visualise the scene again, but it was forever lost to her for now.  
  
"A little lower that the angels, aren't we?" remarked Yazmin with a snort, who had been following the subject of her dreamy musings. In reply, Ella smiled, not missing the irony in her statement. The group that she was an unwilling part of were clearly a lot lower than angels; in fact they were only a little higher than the devil himself.  
  
Onwards and upwards, onwards and upwards. Ella was getting bored now. She was not tired of course; she was a lamia. She felt faintly hungry, but she had been hungrier in her lifetime and still resisted it. It was the maddening feeling of impotency, of utter listlessness, that was invoking the ever-present, indefatigable rebel in her. She was getting restless, irked and was teetering on the edge of reason.  
  
Each and every corridor was the same - the red sandstone blocks interspersed with granite and other indeterminate rocks that made up the walls stood cold and bare, devoid of life and feeling, though there were a few random wall hangings and pictures. But they moved too fast to stop and examine them in detail, though from the ones she had glimpsed, she saw that drabness was a reoccurring theme.  
  
Abruptly, they stopped. Ella, who had been silently contemplating escape or something drastic to dislodge herself from this awful situation, brushed up against a guy in front of her, as she had been momentarily oblivious of the halting. He turned round. Ella sensed that he was a 'shifter, it was unmistakable once you looked into his feral, fathomless eyes. They glowed menacingly, an opaque blackness that one could drown in. His hair was a tawny blonde, and a bit messy, and he looked old even as he appeared young. Towering aggressively over her, he narrowed his eyes at her in annoyance.  
  
"Look where you put those clumsy feet of yours, bitch," he hissed in a tone only audible to him and her. Malevolence and dislike were evident in his voice, his threatening movements, and those ethereal eyes. Ella was shocked; there was no other way to describe it. What had she done to him recently? It seemed strange that such a small collision could have caused such a passionate, hateful outburst.  
  
As she opened her mouth to counter his insulting and unnecessary rebuke, he swiftly turned away. She could now see the route ahead as the 'shifter boy moved towards it. Ella couldn't help but think he was a bit more than just a 'shifter. He seemed too powerful, and far too haughty.  
  
"That's Aethelmaer. They say he's a dragon," whispered Yazmin.  
  
"Dragons are long gone. They all sleep under the earth. Everyone knows that," said Ella quietly in return.  
  
"You don't keep up much with Night World current affairs do you?" she chuckled to herself.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You'll see," she demurred. "Hurry up, you're holding up the queue." Yazmin playfully shoved Ella to the doorway.  
  
It was composed of a wide arch of ornately carved, blue-veined marble that framed the plain but sturdy looking oaken door, metal bolts studded decoratively upon the rich panelling. With little effort, the so-called dragon boy Aethelmaer opened the door and strode in. It was heavy; it swung and slammed shut as soon as he had released it.  
  
Ella shook her thick, wavy dark brown tresses, an instinctive, nervous gesture. The fear shone starkly in her velvety blue eyes as she too pushed at the panels. The door glided smoothly on well-oiled hinges. As her slender fingers made contact with the wood, she could feel power pulsating under the surface. It was spelled. Wood was bad enough, but magical wood made her feel even more uncomfortable. Making as little contact as possible with the thing, she opened it, and quickly darted inside.  
  
She stood transfixed. It was a circular room, perfectly round, with a huge area of floor space and a soaring roof. The walls were a rich creamy colour, like the froth on a cappuccino. Windows that fitted the curvature of the room stretched from floor to ceiling, enclosed on two sides by sumptuous magnolia silk drapes tied back with richly embroidered golden tassels. The floor was covered in a soft, milk-white carpet that seemed as fluffy and soft as an eiderdown, and Ella felt as if she could curl up and sleep upon it forever. By the entrance to the door, a pair of smartly dressed 'wolves stood guard. She looked at them closely, just to see if John was one of them, but he was not.  
  
Realising she was gawping, Ella hastily collected her scattered thoughts and strode over to the group, who were concentrated in the centre. She tried her best not to appear hurried, and she immediately shuttered her mind of with an iron curtain of mental power. Upon the walls, she noticed that there were many beautiful things. Even, she thought happily, a pair of curved scimitars that shone with a warm coppery glow on their magnificently keen edges. Ella admired them particularly, along with a sumptuous oil painting of a blonde haired, dark-robed woman, who was so seductively gorgeous Ella presumed that either she was of the Night World or the artist had made her picture a lot prettier than the original.  
  
"They must be the Council then," a familiar, lazy voice said behind her.  
  
Ella turned back to see Yazmin standing behind her. Ella gave her a questioning look. Being shorter than most others could be a pain at times. Yazmin indicated that she should move to the right a bit. As Ella did so, she saw them at last. The dreaded Council.  
  
Again, fitting the room's circular shape perfectly, an arch-shaped desk sat, a piece of furniture that looked older than an antique, and just as well made. Two 'wolf guards stood at each end of the desk, making them four in number, six if you counted the two at the door. Ella stared at them all, unconsciously searching their features, hoping that John would be amongst them. He was, on her left. Ella withdrew her searching gaze almost in embarrassment as she caught his eye. Turning away, she spotted what looked suspiciously like a sword mark upon the smoothly planed mahogany, and shuddered to think what had gone on in this very room, on that very desk. Sitting at it were five people. The Council.  
  
Ella analysed each one in turn. On the far left, she saw Aldred take his place, near John, in his smug and arrogant way, his face blank and bland, sitting up straight in his chair. It seemed typical that he had not mentioned that he was part of the Council.  
  
On Aldred's right, there sat a seductive witch, whose green eyes shimmered with power as they knowingly and cruelly surveyed the group. Her lips were painted a glossy ruby red that matched her nails. The thin and delicate material of her silver-grey dress looked tissue paper thin, and clung to her statuesque body, giving the impression of a fairy or spirit as she girlishly tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. She took pleasure in eyeing up the male members of the group. Ella did a double take. She looked familiar. Ella's eyes were drawn to the painting that she had admired earlier. She saw the resemblance immediately. It was the same woman.  
  
In the centre, a dark haired, grimly handsome vampire stood, as still and regal as a statue, his ever-changing eyes proclaiming that he was a Redfern. As his gaze slid over the sixteen boys and girls stood in the centre of the round chamber the colour changed from an electric blue to a dark colour almost as unreadable as the 'shifter boy's eyes. And just as freaky. Frowning to himself, he looked, well, intelligent and calculating, and very authoritative. His face was openly anxious and thoughtful, but at the same time there was that underlying current of danger that warned anyone to beware him. He was the head of the Council, presumably. This guy raised his hand in a solemn greeting, and as if by magic, the group were silenced.  
  
On his right, sat another guy, a witch, who had shocking red hair that fell over his face and into his laughing eyes. They were an outrageous, amazingly pure violet colour reminded her of Harman eyes. He lounged lazily in his chair, running his hand though his messy hair, and fidgeted impatiently. He looked far more approachable and less intimidating than the others, but still he was a little bit disturbing. He looked amused, but why? His mirth seemed more like a teasing taunt than anything pleasant.  
  
Finally, on the end, a quiet and lonesome figure sat, but one that exuded a kind of leashed fury and influence that was quite extraordinary. His shadowed face and hooded golden eyes looked a lot like a panther. So too did the graceful, prowling, predatory movements he made ever so often, and the secretive, stealthy and mysterious aura he held around him. Then Ella realised that he was a panther. Or at least, some sort of cat 'shifter.  
  
Everyone's eyes focused expectantly upon the Redfern guy, Ella's included.  
  
"Welcome to Bleeding Thistles," he began grandly. "I, Daegan Redfern, as leader of The Council and therefore of the BT facility extend my sincerest best wishes to you all. We all know that you will only leave here as successful assassins, the elite, the best, and the most deadly of all." Ella couldn't help but read something bad into this. She wondered what happened if you didn't become a successful assassin. Then she shoved the grotesque and dark thoughts from her conscious mind. There would be time to reflect on such things later.  
  
Meanwhile, Daegan gestured to the right-hand members of the Council. "But let me introduce the others. You know Aldred Keyes already." Aldred stood and nodded at the group, stony faced and silent as ever. Daegan went on. "And this is the beautiful Orlana Aveline," he said, as she too stood, smiling particularly at the boys yet again.  
  
Daegan turned to his left. "Ewan Harman," he intoned, indicating the redheaded witch, "and Ishmael Copiah." Copiah meant panther, so this confirmed her thoughts. Neither the witch nor the 'shifter stood up. They barely acknowledged their names at all, in fact.  
  
He turned back to addressing the group. "You are now initiates of Bleeding Thistles. There will be no turning back from this point," he boomed. "You wi...  
  
"Um, excuse me," an apologetic, female voice called out, interrupting Daegan's speech. He looked murderous for a moment, his perfect features distorted by rage, but as soon as this had flickered across his face, the emotion was gone. Ella wasn't even sure she'd seen it. She turned to locate the person who had spoken out. It was the perky, chatty and slightly irritating auburn haired girl. She had gone bright red with embarrassment, but the light of purpose shone in her hazel eyes as she stepped to the front of the crowd. Her hair was curly, almost bouncy, spiralling from her face in frizzy ringlets, and she wore a cute 'I love NY' spaghetti top and a pair of smart black trousers with loafers upon her feet. She was even shorter than Ella was, a little chubby, but very cheerful and attractive. Clearly, she was a witch; it was obvious by the mystical peridot pendant that hung round her neck and the black dahlia tattoo on her collarbone.  
  
"You say there's no turning back," she said hesitantly. "But, you see I've been having second thoughts, and talking to Leah over there has made me come to some sort of conclusions, er, so I have thought about this a lot and." She looked at the sullen, dark haired girl, Leah, in almost a plea for help. Leah returned her gaze with a cool grey-eyed stare, contempt and dislike evident in the way her mouth curled in disgust as she looked at the redhead.  
  
"I've decided that it would be best if I left now," she continued more confidently, looking at Daegan directly in the eye. Ella admired her spirit, but saw the tragedy of her small-minded stupidity. Had she not noticed the veiled threat? Did she not realise that this place was a one- way road? Ella prayed that the girl would somehow come to her senses and at least try to stick it out, but unfortunately, there was no God to grant her wish. "Saves you all the hassle later if I just go," she smiled. "This place isn't for me, really, and I am not the so..."  
  
"What's your name?" asked Daegan, interrupting her back as a form of subtle revenge. Her smile faltered.  
  
"Sophia Melton," Aldred promptly replied. "Witch." He said the last word with revulsion, showing he thought little of witches in general. He trained his frosty gaze upon the witch girl. Orlana leaned forward in anticipation, revealing her cleavage. Ella could hear Yazmin's restrained groan of disgust, and she agreed with her. Ella got the instinctive feeling that Orlana was a bitch, and a predictable one at that; she was after only one thing. Ewan smiled his cruel, pitiless grin at the girl, his eyes sparkling in unchecked pleasure. Ishmael looked uninterested, almost jaded, as he surveyed the scene calmly.  
  
"So, my darling Sophia, you wish to leave us?" asked Daegan, looking amused as he advanced towards her as he rounded the desk.  
  
Poor Sophia was looking nervous now. Ella looked desperately at John, sensing that something bad was going to happen, hoping he'd be able to do something. He showed signs of noticing her silent appeal, but he did not do anything. She saw that he could not do anything. What was one 'wolf against so many powerful Council members?  
  
*It's OK,* she 'pathed to him sadly, lying about it all, hoping that he got the message and didn't do anything dumb. He responded by nodding his head imperceptibly, but she could she the rage in his dark, pain-filled eyes.  
  
She tore her eyes from John and looked to Sophia. Daegan was standing only a hand's breadth from her, staring into her eyes. She was transfixed, mesmerised, her head tilted back to look into his face, a dreamy, dippy smile on her lips, those hazel eyes so unfocused and unconscious, their pupils dilated. Daegan had her in his power. Her neck was stretched, a rosy pink arc of flesh, her throat clearly visible.  
  
It was clear what was going to happen next. Yet, Ella could not look away. She heard Yazmin gasp, a sharp intake of breath, as Daegan lowered his blue- black head over her throat. Sophia seemed to come back to life as his fangs entered her neck. Her eyes widened in fear and panic and she struggled against him, her flailing limbs so futile against his powerful body, the slow drainage of her blood and of her life so visible to all, as she became weaker and ash-pale.  
  
"Stop!" cried a voice, a familiar voice. It was John. Ella decided to pretend that it wasn't really him, that she was dreaming. But she could not deny what her eyes showed her.  
  
He had jumped athletically over the desk, and tried to run at Daegan, to pull him off Sophia. But Aldred alone had been enough to stop him in his tracks. The blond vampire had speedily run round the desk and easily restrained him for a moment, yanking his arms behind his back. John grimaced in agony. But still he did not stop his tireless efforts.  
  
*Stop it, John!* He ignored her, even using her words in his shouting.  
  
"Stop it!" His words rang out like the tolling of a funeral bell. "Sto..." Inevitably, finally, his voice was silenced as Aldred punched him in the head. John sank like a stone, falling to the floor like a ton of lead, bouncing once on the carpet before crashing down to rest. Plainly visible, a trickle of crimson, a river of red flowed from his temple.  
  
Ella died inside as the blood flowed, and she didn't know why.  
  
Daegan pulled away from Sophia. She too dropped to the floor, like a discarded piece of rubbish, pale, bloodless and lifeless. Even her vibrant hair seemed dulled in death, her whole body undertaking a gloomy pallor. A tinge of rust red from her neck dyed another patch on the carpet. Daegan bent down and checked John's pulse.  
  
"Still alive," He stated flatly. Suddenly hope surged within Ella. "Deal with him later, Aldred," he added as an afterthought, signalling for three of the remaining five guards to remove the bodies. "Take Feverfew to his quarters," said Aldred as they left. Ella could not stop looking at the stains on the carpet - one small pool of vibrant red, another just a light smudge from a bloodless neck.  
  
Daegan turned to the remaining fifteen initiates.  
  
"And then there were fifteen," he said, humour in his voice. None of the initiates laughed. Daegan visibly turned serious. "As I was saying, you will obey us now. We are the law. We are your rulers and your kings and your masters. Learn well and we will make assassins of you. Fail, and you might take a different route." Everyone looked at the blood on the floor; it was irresistible at this point. A vivid symbol of the fate awaiting the failures.  
  
"Now, Ewan and Ishmael will take the males to their quarters, and Orlana will do the same for you girls," said he, no remorse or guilt for the murder evident at all. He turned to Aldred. "Come. We have business to attend to." With that, Daegan and Aldred swept out of the door, followed by Ewan, Ishmael and the boys.  
  
Ella's heart sank like a stone as Orlana glided towards the small group of four girls.  
  
"Let's go," she said, her voice musical and teasing all at once, as she stalked out of the room, hips swaying seductively.  
  
Ella gave Yazmin a look of tearful, terrified despair before following Orlana out of the room.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Hee hee! Well, please click the blue "Go" button right now, because it is REVIEW TIME! Please review this chapter. It took me a year and a day to write! ^_^ Any sort of comment will be enjoyed and drooled over. Not literally of course. Hope you enjoyed it, and look out for the next chapter, which will be coming after FRENCH ORAL EXAMS AND MUSIC PRACTICAL EXAMS! Argh! How terrible! 


	7. Discoveries

Waaah! Only got one review for the last chapter! :( I am soo depressed! Ooh, don't forget that the NW series and all it's characters and concepts and stuff belong to LJ Smith, not me! I swear it! But do not even think about laying a finger on the stuff I created all on my own, unless you ask nicely.  
  
Dulce Ambrosia: I know! It's so scary! He's so scary! Thanks for reviewing, I really, really appreciate it. *sniff sniff*  
  
Well, if I don't get many reviews for this chapter, I may get demoralised (even more than I am now) so I might just scrap this sorry little piece of rubbish fanfiction forever, and concentrate on my other story. Is it really that bad? Tell me the truth, I need to know! This is my first NW fanfiction you know. I am very bad at judging my own stuff, and the indication is that this story isn't so good.  
  
*Wipes tears away and sniffles* I think I'll just go write this chapter now...  
  
Oh, and *Please review my story!* is a telepathic message.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Ella was slightly anxious as they followed Orlana into the dormitories, but at the same time, she kept a cool, calm and impassive façade at all times. She had finally realised the cost of letting emotions get in the way of cohesive thought. That was what Sophia had done, let her feelings rule her head, and the result was that she'd been drained dry by Daegan Redfern. She hated herself for wincing at the memory of her bloodless face grey with customary death-pallor, eyes glazed over and unyielding, like chips of muddy ice. Her fiery hair looked dulled in death, like flaking rust, her body, soft and doughy-pale, limp and lifeless.  
  
Orlana turned smartly upon her heels, and surveyed the group with a malicious smile of bloodthirsty anticipation. Her eyes were like emeralds, glimmering coolly, showing a shocking, stony lack of compassion. Under her fierce and corrosive gaze the four girls shrunk away, huddling together, sheltering themselves from the malevolence in her intense scrutiny.  
  
"These are your chambers," she purred, gesturing elegantly to the massive room. "Rest well and eat well. Tonight, we begin the next phase in your initiation. By sunrise we shall have the agents we desire. True Bleeding Thistles assassins. As for the rest of you." she said wickedly, not bothering to finish off her sentence as she swept out of the room. Her mocking laugh echoed from the hallway to where they all stood.  
  
Ella looked around, trying to get Orlana's laugh out of her brain. It's cruel, sadistic ring lingered on in her head even as she distracted herself. The room was made up of the customary sandstone walls and floors, utterly cold and impersonal. At this end, there were several couches and armchairs situated round a TV set, and large bookshelf occupied one wall. There was a small kitchen area, more of a kitchenette really, and many doors leading off this main room.  
  
The first one to make a move, Ella collapsed on a couch, closely followed by Yazmin. The exchanged a look of quiet acceptance of the situation. Ella closed her eyes, then opened them again, blinking back childish tears that made her dark blue eyes shine with ethereal opalescence.  
  
*C'est la vie.* she 'pathed, mainly to Yazmin, but it was the sullen, grey- eyed girl who responded.  
  
*Yeah, true. Doesn't mean we have to like it though,* she 'pathed loudly, leaping upon a shabby chaise-longue, passionate disgust evident in every line of her body, her unruly dark hair flying everywhere. Clearly she was a vampire.  
  
The small, fairylike girl, not wanting to be left out of the conversation, wandered dreamily over to the chaise and sat on the other end of it, shaking her tousled blonde head.  
  
"Hey," she said softly, lazily, "don't speak fuckin' French. I can't understand a word you guys are saying."  
  
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, we're not guys at all," Yazmin responded sharply, dark eyes flashing. "Who are you two, anyway?"  
  
"You first," said the small blonde, narrowing her baby-blue eyes.  
  
Frowning in disgust, Yazmin introduced herself sarcastically. "Yazmin Arlin. I am so damn pleased to meet you."  
  
"Ella Pinefrost," said Ella tiredly, stifling a yawn.  
  
"OK," said the blonde with a satisfied smile. "I'm Katie Arnold." An eagle 'shifter, Ella thought.  
  
"Jo Black," said the wild, sullen girl, grinning savagely. Ella guessed she was a made vampire, due to her normal-sounding name. "This is great, isn't it?" she said, only half joking.  
  
"Did you hear what that bitch Orlana said? By the time the night is out most of us will be dead!" exclaimed Katie, surprised at Jo's relish of the situation.  
  
"I wonder how they're gonna select us," murmured Ella, more to herself than to the other girls.  
  
"That's easy. They make us fight each other, and the people who aren't dead or show the best technique in the battles, they become the BT assassins," Yazmin said, seeming proud of her knowledge. She enjoyed being superior. "We'll have to fight the guys too though. Should be fun. Wouldn't fancy goin' up against that dragon boy Aethelmaer, would you?"  
  
"Yazmin, dragons do not exist anymore," Ella stated flatly.  
  
"Y'know, that's not strictly true nowadays," said Jo. She looked about to say more, but Yazmin interrupted her.  
  
"Yeah, didn't you hear about the whole Wild Power thing?" she said. Jo scowled at Yazmin, giving her a poisonous look, but Yazmin either didn't notice, or didn't care. "One from the hearth that still holds the spark, or something like that," Yazmin said. "The third Wild Power."  
  
"Yup. That one. The Daybreakers and Nightworlders had found her. Lost Harman witch. Night World sent a fucking dragon after her, apparently. But the girl's blue fire was enough to toast him," said Jo, taking over the story. "And then off she went to the Daybreakers."  
  
"Is that true?" gasped Ella, now interested in the story. "How did they awaken that son-of-a-bitch dragon?" And, she thought, how does Jo know so much about Daybreaker current affairs?  
  
"Obviously, it was a witch who did it," said Katie with a smirk. "But which witch?"  
  
"A witch who wasn't a witch, so they say," replied Jo. "Pretty powerful, he or she must be. And still alive." And there again, thought Ella, thinking that Jo knew an awful lot. Enough to make anyone suspicious.  
  
"I dunno about all these Wild Power prophesies and suchlike," Ella mused. "Three down, one to go, so they say. Personally, I can't believe that the fate of the world lies in the hands of four people. And, I can't believe that so many vamps, witches, 'shifters and 'wolves would want to side with Daybreak. If the Night World wins, then it will be so much better for us all. Imagine a world where you could hunt when and where you wanted! No secrecy! That is a better offer that what Daybreak are hoping - vainly - to achieve."  
  
Slyly, she glanced sideways at Jo. Jo looked, well, outraged for a split second, and disgusted. Plain as day, thought Ella. She must be, without a doubt, a true-blue Daybreaker.  
  
"Yeah. Daybreakers are scum," agreed Yazmin ferociously.  
  
"At least we all concur on that point," smiled Katie.  
  
Jo gave her a slightly strange look, almost involuntary, before quickly turning away. Ella had caught the expression on her face. It was as if she was appalled, worried, anxious, and tense... Now she knew, it was unmistakable. Jo was more than just your ordinary, run-of-the-mill vampire. She was a Daybreaker spy. But what was Daybreak doing here? Bleeding Thistles may have been the premier Night World assassins' agency, but Daybreak was more concerned with finding Wild Powers, wasn't it?  
  
"What do you think, Jo?" asked Ella, a meaningful look glowing in her midnight-dark eyes.  
  
Jo looked flustered. "Well, it's obvious. Circle Daybreak is a weak, stupid, and false," she said harshly.  
  
"Yup. But that doesn't make much difference to us now, does it?" said Yazmin, stretching with a fluid grace as she stood up. "I'm gonna pick out a room and get some rest," she announced as she sauntered away. "I suggest you guys should too," she added. "We've got a hell of a night ahead of us."  
  
"Yeah, I'm coming," said Katie, springing from the chaise-longue and hurrying away.  
  
*I know who you are...* 'pathed Ella venomously to Jo, before she could escape. *That's how you know so much about the whole Wild Power thing...*  
  
*No, uh, I'm just well informed.* Ella flashed a humourless, savage smile, revealing her sharp teeth. *Yazmin knew some stuff too.*  
  
*You knew more that her. I checked.* Ella chuckled, acting like a cat playing cruelly with a doomed little mouse.  
  
*Wha... I know nothing!* Jo was wringing her hands now, distress plain on her face.  
  
*Uh huh. And I'm a fucking lunatic.*  
  
*You said it. Anyway, Daybreak are idiotic! They're stupid!* Her mental voice was shrill and definitely guilty.  
  
*Whoever said I thought you were a Daybreaker? But since you insist on telling me these things...* She couldn't help but be amused. Jo had just walked right into her trap and had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.  
  
*What's it to you anyway, Pinefrost?* Defensively, she stood up, trying to look menacing and threatening. But, it wasn't working for Ella.  
  
*Just curious. But I'd love to know just what you're doing here. This is a Night World facility after all...* Ella stood slowly, keeping an eye upon Jo all the while.  
  
Jo made to scramble away, but Ella leapt up and delivered a powerful crescent-kick to the back of her thighs, forcing her legs to give way, making her crumple to the floor. Ella sighed. It was not that she wanted to be in BT or to protect it; it was just that she hated Circle Daybreak, the whole concept and it's members.  
  
Pushing her face close to Jo's, she whispered; "You'd better tell me or I'll be forced to beat it out of you, or worse, I'm sure that Daegan will be interested in news of your misplaced allegiance."  
  
Ella was surprised at herself. She was playing the powerful, evil little bitch to perfection.  
  
In retaliation, Jo head-butted her, and shoved her roughly aside. Ella recovered almost at once and managed to dodge Jo's punch that had been aimed at her midsection. It was a shame that all BT initiates had learnt kickboxing.  
  
Resuming the fighting stance, Ella felt her canines lengthen and sharpen.  
  
Blocking a powerful side-kick, she staggered slightly, which was why Jo's forceful uppercut connected with her jaw. It sent her flying to the back of the room, where she landed. Every bone in her body thrilled with bittersweet pain as she landed upon the sandstone. Aware of the dangers of languishing upon the ground, Ella dragged herself upright and made for Jo again, determined to make her pay.  
  
Ella faked a left, making Jo block, then aimed a high front-kick to the girl's head. Blood flowed, and Jo visibly swooned. Ella glanced at her shoe, noticing the blood there.  
  
"I'm bored now, Daybreaker," she spat as her body fell to the ground with an almighty thud. Out cold, she grinned.  
  
Suddenly, Ella heard slow, sarcastic clapping. Scared out of her skin, she whirled around.  
  
Shit. It was the dragon boy. Aethelmaer.  
  
He leant against the doorframe, laconic, lazy and amused, his eyes swallowing all light in their chilling opaqueness. His tawny hair was messed up in a careless way, which enhanced his unreal natural beauty. He looked predatory, and Ella could place the smile that tugged on his lips. The smile of a cat playing with a doomed mouse. Feeling her spirit quail, and her heart flutter like a bird in a cage, she cursed life in general. He looked, well, extremely attractive, in a pair of black trousers and a t- shirt that emphasised powerful muscles.  
  
*Nice work, little lady.* His voice sounding in her brain was so formidable that she winced, feeling the beginnings of a forceful migraine pound her skull. Why was he being so pleasant? Even though his tone was heavily laced with sarcasm, it was a far cry from the abrupt abusiveness she had felt from him earlier.  
  
*I don't think you're supposed to be in here.* Her telepathic voice was weak, dazed.  
  
*Whatever do you mean?* He chuckled darkly.  
  
Ella tried to open her mouth to reply, but she couldn't. Velvety blue eyes wide with astonishment and fear, she simply stared. He was influencing her, destroying her defences with his mind.  
  
*Why so silent? Don't you want to talk?* Shit, he was approaching, coming towards her, into the room. He walked with the innate grace of a wild animal. Ella was aware desperately that she needed to escape. That dragon was nothing but trouble. But it was strange how her legs refused to move, and she felt a vague sensation of dizziness. What was she doing again? He was closing in, and Ella was utterly helpless.  
  
He came up close to her, very, very close, a superior smile dancing on his lips. Ella's breath caught, and she felt very, very peculiar...  
  
"Wha... what do you want to talk about?" she said, trying to put a note of authority into her voice, but it ended up sounding soft and breathy. Aethelmaer was far more powerful that her, by a long way, but still she struggled in the grip of his mental power. His face was inches from her own, and her frightened, beguiling blue eyes couldn't help but stare up into his dark, devilish ones. "I don't think..." she said, raising her voice stubbornly, but he simply forced her into silence simply by willing her to shut up.  
  
Ella had never been controlled in this way before. Being a lamia, she was usually top of the food chain, so to speak. But now, she felt utterly terrified as Aethelmaer's long, pale eyelashes drooped mockingly, his searing gaze focused solely upon her. She was the prey now, and it was not a nice feeling at all. She trembled in his grasp.  
  
He bent his head to reach hers, as slowly as the sunrise. She couldn't escape it. But she still tried to get free, as futile as it was. Ella wondered why the dragon boy was picking on her all of a sudden.  
  
As his lips brushed hers, softly, Ella almost felt detached from it all, as if it wasn't really her in the situation; that it wasn't really happening. But another part of her was devastatingly aware of it all, the warmth of his hated body encircling her, his lips devouring hers. It was dark, terribly dark, and it was seeping into her soul.  
  
"Ella!" She was aware of someone calling her name. The voice was very familiar, she felt an odd sort of painful yearning when she heard it. Wasn't that John? Dimly, she tried to turn, to confirm her suspicions. But it was so agonizing! Her head burned in anguish, but she would not stop trying. Then, with all her strength, she pulled. Pulled herself free. She felt hands helping her, voices calling her name. That gave her hope, it gave her courage. She strained, ignoring the pain and the darkness, striving for the light...  
  
An explosion of lightning, white and blue, lit up the darkness. She tried to shield her eyes, but the burning vision would not be blocked away. It grew, roaring, throbbing with pure energy and heat. Her eyes watered, her skin tingled, unable to cope with it all.  
  
Then, as if by magic, it all disappeared, leaving a murky wash of pale colour. Ella tried to stay still, but she staggered. She couldn't see. She couldn't hear. It was all grey. Feeling weak and drained, she let herself collapse. Blinking, she tried to clear her vision. Blurred images were coming to her, slowly merging into a coherent picture.  
  
"Are you alright?" said that familiar voice.  
  
"John?" she whispered, reaching out with a shaking hand.  
  
"Yeah," he said. She could roughly distinguish his hazy outline, and she caught his hand, her fingers intertwined with his.  
  
"Where did the blue lighting come from?" she asked weakly, foreboding creeping into her voice.  
  
The silence stretched out like a chasm between them, and Ella just felt like she wanted to die. She knew that the answer was not going to be good news at all.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Gasp! Blue lightning? What is that all about? Please would you take the time to review my story. I would appreciate any sorts of comments, be they nice or nasty. Thanks! The greater the number of reviews I get, the more cheery I get, and so, the faster I write! ^_^ 


	8. Truth

LJ Smith's NW series belongs to... LJ Smith! And her publishers. This is just fanfiction, non-profit fun for me and for you. So don't sue me!  
  
~Dances madly in a little circle~ Wow I am soo happy! Now I have lots of reviews!  
  
Just a comment. This story seems to be ~rather obviously~ going towards becoming a Wildpower fic. I dunno whether this is boringly samey, or a good idea. Might spice up the main plot a bit, but I don't want the Wild Power issue to become the main theme. Your comments would be totally appreciated on this front. I don't want to spoil what's coming up in this chapter so I'll put some more at the bottom.  
  
Anonymus: Well, if y'all keep reviewing, I'll keep up the writing (hint hint). And why is it that everyone always seems to go for the fit dragons? We'll soon have none left! Thanks for your flattering encouragement!  
  
Neoen: Yeah, that is her natural personality, it's just that for the first few chapters she was depressed coz of leaving home and becoming an assassin and stuff. Now you get to see the real Ella... And all may be revealed about the blue fire in this chapter!  
  
Persona: Heh, if I told you that, it would be giving the storyline away... See comment above for a bit more enlightenment, and thanks!  
  
Dulce Ambrosia: Thank ya loads! As I sed to Neoen, Ella is naturally 'nastier' but her situation makes her seem less so at the beginning of the fic. I am thinking of putting in a prologue showing what Ella was like before her brother left and she had to go to Bleeding Thistles maybe.  
  
*DO READ AND REVIEW!* is a (persuasive) telepathic message. Please take the time to review. I love it like I love water and air and light... Ooh, I went a bit poetic then!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Ella rubbed her eyes wearily, as her vision slowly focused. She felt inwardly weak, but her determination to discover the truth about this crazy situation gave her a little strength. So many unanswered questions spun around in her head, obvious but ambiguous, ever tantalising. And what had just happened to her? What had she seen? Blue lightning, and a hazy loss of memory. But, there was no reasonable explanation for it all. Ella decided that she must have imagined it; she kept telling herself this over and over again. She must have imagined that blue fire.  
  
She rose gracefully from her awkward reclining position on the floor, feeling every bruise and cut scream grumpily at her. Upon her wrist, blood flowed freely, though it was a shallow wound. Jo not been a tough fight, but Ella still felt those annoying minor injuries even as they healed. She stood, proud and unfazed, but fear still lingered within her.  
  
But she had barely had the time to adjust to being lucid again, when she saw Jo, now conscious, trying to make a break for it, carrying John on her back in a fireman's lift. The Daybreaker. Ella simply crept up behind the retreating vampire, and kicked her hard in the back of the knee joint, causing her legs to collapse. The vampire fell face down upon the floor, and John tumbled to the ground beside her.  
  
"Spill it," she said flatly, addressing Jo. John had been knocked out, so for the moment he was useless. But, he would have seen what had happened between herself and Aethelmaer. He would be able to tell her what had just happened... Ella's head still pounded unmercilessly. Her eyes had a burning glow in them, something half-wild, and very dangerous, as they glared at the Daybreaker vampire. But Jo simply ignored her, and Ella saw that she had other things on her mind right then.  
  
Jo was kneeling upon the floor, next to the prostrate, unconscious form of John. Her hand tenderly brushed his face, and she whispered quietly to him, her dark head bent over his, almost touching... A strange sort of longing hit Ella, causing a tense, hard knot to form in her stomach. She swallowed thickly, feeling a surge of nausea overcome her. Of course, she told herself, trying to pretend that it didn't hurt. They were together. Go figure. Jo looked up, and Ella couldn't meet her cool grey eyes.  
  
*Jealous, my pet?* Aethelmaer's voice sounded behind her, mocking and cruel, but weakened. How had he been weakened? Dragons were meant to be all- powerful, and he was a real dragon, that was certain. So who had stopped him from seducing and controlling her? But she carefully kept these questions hidden as much as she could. The truth often meant danger when you were dealing with secrets.  
  
"Shut up. As if, dragon boy," Ella hissed aloud, without even bothering to turn round. He had tried to take advantage of her so sneakily, using his clearly superior powers to entrap her, and in Ella's book that was a major mistake. That meant that she was in the mood to argue and annoy. Even though she knew caution was the order of the day when dealing with individuals stronger than she was, Ella was far too angry, and emotional, to bother with all that rubbish. She blinked back tears, wondering why she was feeling so... abandoned. Totally adrift from reality. But inwardly she knew. It was because of John and Jo. How could John even like that Daybreaker?  
  
Ella then noticed Yazmin run in, on the far side of the room. She looked daggers at Aethelmaer and John and Jo in turn. Katie, the little eagle 'shifter, came up beside her, and she was trembling in pure, unadulterated terror. Her mouth was wide open in total shock, poor kid. They hadn't seen anything, though.  
  
"So, what are you planning to do about that Daybreaker vamp and that Daybreaker mutt of hers?" he smiled humourlessly as he came into her line of sight.  
  
"They're both Daybreakers?" Ella didn't think John would be scum like that, but then, she'd been wrong about John before, hadn't she? It would make sense, because birds of a feather always flock together. "Did you read their minds to find this out? Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes ma'am," he said tiredly. He ran his fingers though his dark blonde hair, and for a split second Ella glimpsed a few of his horns. She shuddered, wondering if she'd ever get used to the whole dragon idea. Even being a couple of metres away from him made her nervous; his undeniable presence and force were astoundingly unsettling.  
  
"So what's your plan?" he asked.  
  
Well, in case you hadn't noticed, you're involved too," she retorted.  
  
"A salient point," he admitted, giving her a strange look. It was funny how... compelling his eyes could be. It was almost as if he recognised her from somewhere... As if he knew some deep secret about her that she was unaware of...  
  
Ella forced herself to ignore him. Any vestige of the girl she usually was had completely vanished. She had gone into survival mode, if you like, and was now focused on the task in hand.  
  
"Katie, go get someone to help us here," Ella called across the room to the dazed blonde. Shaken out of her reverie, Katie closed her mouth and swiftly changed into an eagle. Ella watched as the girl and bird slowing became united for one instant, in complete harmony, then the shift continued and she was then a proud bird of prey, her cruelly curved beak and unusually pale plumage glinting in the sun as she flew to find help.  
  
She approached the pair on the floor, motioning for Yazmin and Aethelmaer to come too.  
  
The three formed a circle around the Daybreakers.  
  
Jo stood up, her chin stuck out in stubborn defiance.  
  
"What a pathetic couple you make. One second at Bleeding Thistles and already your identities are unmasked. I would have expected more from you, but no one could expect a mangy mutt like him to succeed at anything," Aethelmaer said, breaking the silence. As Jo's face contorted with bottled- up rage, the dragon chuckled, his dark eyes as fathomless as ever. He was enjoying winding her up; that much was obvious.  
  
"And I'd like to know just what you are doing in the heart of a Night World facility," Yazmin said, smiling wickedly.  
  
"Indeed," said Ella dryly. She lifted her gaze to meet Jo's. Her eyes begged for mercy. Sadly, no matter what she felt inside, Ella was not a naturally merciful person. They were Daybreakers, so the simple logic of the matter was that they should be interrogated, then slaughtered as quickly as possible. Though, she admitted, she would make an exception for John.  
  
She turned to Aethelmaer. "Could you influence her to tell the truth?"  
  
"Only if you say please," he said, staring at her with hooded eyes.  
  
Ella wanted to slap him. She promised herself that once this whole thing was over, she was going to get the truth out of Aethelmaer, the truth about the whole situation with the blue fire and the haze. Only two people knew, and he was the only one conscious for now.  
  
"Shut up and do it, arsehole," she said disgustedly.  
  
"Why thank you, my lady," he said with a self-satisfied smirk.  
  
The dragon boy did it. He barely batted an eyelid, whilst Jo started to shake, violently. Even from where she was standing, Ella could sense the surge of dark energy emanating from him, focusing upon the grey-eyed vampire in the centre of the circle.  
  
"Ella, do you really think it's a good idea letting him help?" asked Yazmin in an undertone as Aethelmaer did his stuff. "He's a dragon. It was a good thing that 'wolf came in here making such a noise, otherwise we wouldn't have known that he was even here. What did he do to you?"  
  
"Nothing. Well at least I don't think he..." Ella stopped babbling. Did Yazmin really need to know? She would only worry herself. "I'm fine, but I agree, he is not trustworthy" she whispered back. "But, at this very moment in time we need him. Do you think we would be able to get any answers from them without him? Aethelmaer is our means of finding out part of what's going on."  
  
"True," said Yazmin. "But that doesn't mean I have to like him."  
  
Ella was about to reply, when she noticed Jo collapsing like a rag doll, falling to the ground.  
  
"Hey, not too hard!" she exclaimed, realising what was happening. Yazmin had distracted her temporarily. "How is she gonna be able to talk in this state?" Ella said, annoyance clear in her voice as she caught Jo's limp body, stopping her from slamming into the floor, then dropped her gently upon it.  
  
"It's only temporary," he said. It turned out that Aethelmaer was telling the truth this time. Jo soon scrambled up of her own accord. She looked very.... stoned. She couldn't stand still; she kept shifting her weight from one foot to another, swaying precariously. She had the most stupid expression on her face. One of mild insanity.  
  
"Is she sane?" asked Yazmin, doubt plainly visible upon her exotic, cocoa- coloured face.  
  
"Despite all appearances, yes," Aethelmaer said. "Do what you wish with her now. She cannot lie. She has got no free will whatsoever."  
  
Yazmin's eyes widened, but she did not say a word, though she shuffled as far away as possible from Aethelmaer.  
  
"What is your name?" Ella tried. She knew the answer to this one, so this would be a test of whether she was really being truthful.  
  
"Joanna Black," she replied suddenly. No expression of emotion was made, her face as blank as a canvas.  
  
"Seems to be OK," said Ella. "What was your mission briefing?"  
  
"To infiltrate Bleeding Thistles and locate...." Suddenly, Jo's mouth snapped shut, and she fell to the ground. Ella started in shock.  
  
*Behind you.* Aethelmaer 'pathed to her. Ella whirled round.  
  
And there stood Daegan. Ella noticed Katie lurking nervously behind him, now in her human form.  
  
"Ella, Yazmin, Aethelmaer, and Katie of course, thank you for locating these intruders," he said smoothly, his eyes now a brightly shining emerald green. He strode fluidly to the centre of the room. Behind him, a group of 4 'wolves filed in. Two of them picked up John and Jo, whilst the other two remained alert and guarded. Katie followed them, rushing to Yazmin's side. She was still terrified.  
  
"They are Daybreaker spies, both of them," said Aethelmaer dispassionately. "Easy to locate. It was no challenge."  
  
"For elite initiates like yourselves, I expected nothing less," said Daegan, smiling coldly at the four of them as his eyes changed to a shocking kind of electric blue. "I shall look forward to this evening." And with that, he swept out again, followed by his servant werewolves.  
  
Ella stood, rooted to the spot. Why had she told Katie to get Daegan? She cursed her own foolish stupidity. Now they would never know why Daybreakers like Jo and John were at Bleeding Thistles. The Council would now possess all the knowledge, and it was true that knowledge was power. How could she be so idiotic? Wallowing in misery, she noticed Aethelmaer walking away, making for the exit of the room. Ella shook herself out of lethargy and hurried after him.  
  
Ordinarily, she would not go looking for trouble, but she needed to know about the blue fire and the haziness. Only he would know. He had some of the answers to the questions plaguing her.  
  
"Aethelmaer!" she called from the doorway, to his retreating back. He was just turning the corner. "Wait!"  
  
Ella ran, following him. He had now actually rounded the corner and was out of sight. He'd gone.  
  
As she went round the corner, she bumped into him, feeling a momentary bout of hazy dizziness as her flesh touched his. She backed away. So he had waited.  
  
"We meet again," he said wryly, looking down at her with soulless black eyes, intimidating her with his cruel and laughing expression Ella stared back with her fierce blue ones showing cold, calculating fury.  
  
"I need to know; how do you know me?" she said, faltering as he moved his face closer. Ella wondered just why she had gone to see him alone.  
  
A smile tugged at his lips. "I don't know you exactly, but I did know am incarnation of you."  
  
"Wha..." said Ella incredulously.  
  
"Eleanor, that was your name. You were human back then though; it's nice to see you've gone... up in the world, so to speak," he chuckled.  
  
"What, like Old Souls... Am I an Old Soul?"  
  
"Well, not any more. Lamia don't have souls."  
  
"But I did... Wow...." Ella was slightly shocked. That did explain a lot. "So you knew me, right? How did you know me?" Ella asked. She was surprised that Aethelmaer was putting up with this inquisition so easily, and decided to make the most out of it.  
  
"Like this," he said, and he lifted his hand. Ella fought the instinct to grimace and back away as he gently stroked her cheek. Feeling his touch, Ella got the sense of falling, of haziness clouding her vision, but with clarity at the same time. Suddenly, she felt visions, memories raining down into her brain, She jerked away, staring at him with accusing eyes.  
  
"What was that?" she yelled. She was scared. Ella had never felt so... naked. "What did you do to me?"  
  
"Nothing. It was meant to be," he said resentfully, his tone laced with sarcasm. He returned her gaze, and it was one of anger. "I never even dreamt that you would return. If I had realised..."  
  
Ella was totally confused. So, she changed the subject. "Did you see that blue fire?" Ella no longer cared about convention or etiquette. She had just stumbled on to shaky territory with Aethelmaer and there was no way she was going to continue the conversation willingly.  
  
"Of course I did," he said mockingly, bitterly, scornfully. "It came from you. You knocked me out with that blue fire of yours. You know what that means, don't you? You're a Wild Power. One from the twilight to be one with the dark. That's you, Ella. You're the one. And I am your soulmate." He grabbed onto her arms, as if he was trying to shake the truth into her.  
  
His fateful words echoed in Ella's ears. She couldn't escape them. It couldn't be. But in her heart of hearts, she knew the grim truth. It was true. Tears of rage filling her eyes, Ella tore from his grasp and ran down the hallway, her midnight blue eyes almost black with inescapable misery.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Hee hee! Ok, was that too stupid? Tell me, I can rewrite things! Is this becoming dull? Stupid? Idiotic? Feel free to tell me, I can take the misery and shame... -_- But hey, if you want to be nice, I'm not stopping you! ^_~ PLEASE REMEMBER TO REVIEW! Please? 


End file.
